


So, You Got Detention.

by MurdockSchmurdock



Series: Weird webby stories from Peter Parker’s weird webby life [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America's PSAs, Crack Treated Seriously, Detention, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Gen, John Mulaney References, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Not JGCU (Jake Gyllenhaal Cinematic Universe) compliant, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Steve Rogers, Sassy Peter, not a lot of tony in this one sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-27 03:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19782265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurdockSchmurdock/pseuds/MurdockSchmurdock
Summary: Honestly I think the title is explanation enoughjust a short little story taking place a few weeks after 'That Awkward Moment When Your Whole Class Shows Up At Your House', because I don't write about Peter and Steve enough ^-^





	1. Ah... Fluorescent Lights....

**Author's Note:**

> This is has probably been done many, many times but I found it in my Notes app, where I have about fifty different random ideas for stories that I usually write in the middle of the night before passing out so here it is!  
> lemme know what you think in the comments!

“Mister Parker, since this is the,” his gym teacher looked down at the slip in his hand, “fifth time you’ve gotten detention this semester, I’ll have to call home.” Peter just nodded and stared resignedly at the desk he sat at. Most of the plastic wood surface was carved away or sharpied over, but enough of the gloss remained for the gloomy artificial light to glare off of it into his eyes. This coupled with the low hum of the fluorescent bulbs and absolutely bull reason he was in detention in the first place was starting to give him a headache.

It had been a little over a month since a handful of his classmates took a trip to Stark Tower, which ended up confirming to all of them that his internship was real. Oh, and that he was currently living at the Tower. Of course, they were all absolutely buried in NDA’s about the whole thing and Flash, well, Flash was not taking it well. 

He didn’t have a ton of credibility outside his friend group in the first place, but after everyone who was on the trip stopped paying attention to him, it caused a ripple effect through the school. No one was entirely sure what happened on the trip, but whatever it was, it evidently turned the smart ass bully into a minor nuisance. His snide remarks held no more weight, his words had no power, and Flash was turning downright ornery because of it.

Peter, on the other hand, had never felt more free. He came back a week after the trip, fully expecting to be swamped with uncomfortable attention, but was pleasantly surprised with just, nothing. Apart from a few of his classmates being a whole lot nicer to him, and Flash keeping an arm’s distance, barely any of his school life had changed. No media leaks, fake friends, stalkers, nothing. Those NDA’s must have been straight up terrifying. 

At first he thought Flash leaving him alone was the best part of the whole thing. He didn’t have to dodge shoves in the hallway, or turn his cheek at cruel comments in every other class. It was practically heaven. Until he learned that, just as he feared, Flash had sunk to a new low, using younger students to take out his rage boner on. Which Peter told him, right after calling him a ‘complete dickwad’, and just in time for Principal Morita to walk by and drag Peter into his office.

Principal Morita wasn’t that bad, though, and after Peter explained the situation, or what he could, the man promised to speak to Flash about his behavior. However, he also said that he couldn’t just let Peter get away with cursing out another student in the hallway, and gave him the surprisingly light sentence of one hour after school detention. Which happened to be the fifth one that semester. Fantastic.

Not that he would probably get in much trouble from a phone call, though. The only two contacts the school had for him were his Aunt May and Tony Stark (a.k.a Anthony Stank). May would be disappointed in his choice of words, but she’d understand his motives. No issue there. Mister Stark, being himself, would probably congratulate him (quietly, so May and Pepper didn’t hear) and then go absolutely ballistic on Flash. And as much as Peter did not like Flash, he also didn’t want him expelled with his entire life ruined. So May was probably the better option, not that he had a say in the matter.

Coach Wilson looked up from the hefty stack of papers he had been working on, grabbing the sheet of paper with Peter’s emergency contacts on it and his cell phone. 

“I’m gonna step out and make this call. You two gonna be fine in here?” He grumbled, looking slowly between Peter and Mj, who was also present. Peter nodded and Mj did not respond, which seemed to be good enough for the coach, so he stood plodded out into the hall. 

“Now that is a sad man.” Mj spoke up from the desk beside him. Peter turned to look at her, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“I thought you said he was in crisis?”

“I did, but he has obviously crossed the boundary into just plain sad.” She stated, flipping to a new page in her sketchbook,”Mister Harrington, on the other hand, is unquestionably in crisis.” 

“Makes sense.” Peter agreed, glancing over at the door Coach had disappeared into, ”Wait, you’re still allowed to be in here?” Mj gave him a tiny grin, spinning her sketchbook around to show what had to be her hundredth drawing of Coach Wilson.

“Yeah, after coach complained about it to him, Morita said it was cool so long as I wasn’t disruptive, or talking to the people actually in detention.” Mj explained.

“Well you’re talking to  _ me, _ ” Peter snarked, earning an eye roll from his friend.

“Are you complaining?” He shook his head as she smirked at him,”that’s what I thought.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Coach Wilson was getting progressively more frustrated. The first phone number went to voicemail, and the second was still ringing after, what, three whole minutes? He had half a mind to just hang up, but these were the only two numbers listed, and if he let one kid get away with no phone call, soon all the other ones would expect to. Just as he was becoming certain the sound of the ringer would be ingrained in his nightmares for the rest of his life, the line picked up and a distantly familiar voice answered.

“Who is this?” it said calmly, though the underlying demand was evident.

“Uh, Coach Wilson from Midtown High, is this,” Wilson squinted at the name penned besides the number “Anthony Stank?” a muffled cough from the other side.

“I am, uh answering for him, yes.” The voice was fairly deep, so it was a man, from what Wilson could tell, anyway. A pause. 

“Is this about Peter, Peter Parker?” 

“As far as I know, no other students from your residence attend this school, so yes.” Coach sighed, very ready to get this over with.

“Is it alright that I am speaking to you, or should I call back later, Mister…?” the man seemed to hesitate, and some scattered muttering came from the other end. Wilson wondered to himself how well Peter was doing in a home where at least one resident didn’t know their own name.

“Steve...enson!” The man finally managed to stammer out. Wilson clicked his pen, beginning to write it next to Anthony Stank and the phone number.

“With a ‘v’ or a ‘ph’?” He asked, pressing his phone between his neck and ear as he wrote. He wasn’t prepared for the shouted answer that nearly made him drop it.

“A ‘v’, I mean, ‘ph’!” 

“Alright, alright, calm down.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m just not used to… answering...phones?” The man, Stephenson muttered.

“I can tell.” Coach replied, well aware he should not be mouthing off to a parent or guardian or whatever but too tired to really care.

“Okay, can you please tell me why you’re calling this number? Is Peter alright?” 

“Uhuh, he’s fine, but he got detention and it’s school policy to call home after the fifth detention in a semester.” Wilson read off the sheet. The line was dead silent, and he wondered for a moment if he got hung up on.

“Oh, _ did  _ he now?” Stephenson sounded scarily calm, “How, may I ask, did this happen?”

“Says here he called some kid a ‘dickwad’, I can send the full report home with him if you’d like.” Wilson said, hoping he wouldn’t be asked to read all the information off the page.

“Fascinating. Yes, if you could give it to him that would be great,” the man replied, the same eerie calmness to his voice, “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, have a wonderful afternoon,Coach.”

“You too, Mister, uh, Stephenson.” Wilson responded, just as the line cut off. 

Well, that was over with. He walked back into the room, catching the tail end of a conversation between the room’s two occupants, before they quickly shut up and pretended to have never met. Not that he would do anything about it, but at least they had the decency to pretend he would. He dropped the detention explanation sheet on Peter’s desk, before dragging the rolling tray and TV to the front of the room. Time to space out and let Mister America do all the work for him.

* * *

Peter was halfway through telling Mj a long and complicated knock-knock joke when the door swung open, signalling Coach Wilson’s return. He bit back his next word and swiftly pretended to doodle on the desk, while Mj returned to actually doodling. The papers detailing exactly how he ended up there landed in front of him. He must have called May, she liked to know exactly what happened from both sides. 

He looked up as Coach pulled the TV stand to the front of the room with effort. He’d offer to help, but he doubted the guy would appreciate ‘the least athletic kid in school’ upstaging him. He looked miserable enough already. That, and Peter didn’t really want to accelerate what was coming. With any luck, Coach would struggle with the TV for the next forty five minutes, and Peter wouldn’t have to watch the video he’d seen a hundred times already.

But it was not to be, Coach managed to get the stand to the front, plug it in, find the right input and insert the VHS in under five minutes. He flicked the lights off, plunging the room into semi- darkness, and sunk into his seat with a tired groan. The fluorescent buzzing was replaced by the hum of the old TV, but while Peter’s ears were still suffering, at least the light of the TV was less harsh on his eyes.

The video flashed to life, the hallway and backwards chair all-too-familiar to every high school student in north america appearing with some cheesy theme song. As soon as it ended, the star-spangled man with a plan himself strode into frame, swinging his leg over the chair and letting his arms rest on the back. Peter could feel his gaze boring into his own.

“So you got detention.” Cap said, his smile far too cheery for the soul sucking cinder block room, ”You screwed up.” Peter let out a loud groan and let his head fall forward onto the graffitied desk with a thump.

“No sleeping, Parker.” Coach sighed, sounding like he’d rather be anywhere else and a little muffled. Peter looked up to see that he also had his head down. He turned to Mj, who looked way too smug for someone currently drawing her gym teacher for the umpteenth time.

“You know what you did was wrong, the question is, how are you gonna make it right?” The Captain’s voice was the only sound in the room, apart from the occasional snore from Coach Wilson, or scrape of an eraser from Mj. He was fairly certain that he would never leave. Actually, he was certain he had never left, and every space of time between detentions was a wild hallucination his eternally bored mind had created. There was no Spider-Man, no May, no Tony Stark, no Ned, no New York. Just him, Mj, Coach Wilson, and the ever-present, ever-peppy voice of Captain America.

“Maybe you were trying to be cool, take it from a guy who’s been frozen for sixty five years, the only way to really be cool, is to follow the rules.” A crash followed by a scream from the neighboring science lab reminded Peter that maybe he wasn’t alone in the universe after all, and he would eventually be able to leave. Or maybe that was just another hallucination.

“We all know what’s right, and we all know what’s wrong. Next time those turkeys try to convince you of something you know is wrong, just think to yourself, what would Captain America do?”

Peter spent the remaining thirty four minutes in and out of awareness, staring at weird patterns in the ceiling tiles and trying to ignore his headache while the Coach snoozed and Cap droned on and on. He had to admit it was an experience, occasionally he’d snap back to hear odd chunks of sentences, like ‘Hormones can cause you to feel things’. 

“Remember kids, violence is never the option!’ The Captain grinned, saluting before he stared dead into the camera, stone faced, “Unless they’re Nazis.” The video cut out pretty quickly after that, and finally,  _ finally _ , it was over. The VHS ejected, the TV switched to very loud static that woke Coach Wilson with a grunt, who very slowly stood up to turn off the TV and switch the lights back on. 

“Alright, time’s up, please collect your things and proceed to leave the school in an orderly fashion.” Wilson grumbled, as Peter shoved the papers in his bag and Mj snapped her book shut. Mj darted out before him, but before Peter could leave Coach grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the side.

“Parker, are you doing alright at home?” He asked, looking surprisingly more concerned than tired.

“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine.” Peter replied, hoping he wasn’t looking suspicious or anything. Coach looked him up and down before releasing his arm.

“Alright, but just remember that you can always come talk to me, or any of the other teachers here if something isn’t all good.” Peter nodded, thanking the man before jogging out of the room and down the hall to Mj.

“What was that all about?” She asked.

“Literally no idea.” Peter sighed, and together they burst through the front doors and out into the school yard.

“Ah, freedom,” Peter beamed, taking a deep breath of the fresh fall air, “I never thought I’d see the outside world again.” Mj laughed and bumped him with her shoulder as they walked down the stairs.

“That’s a little over dramatic.” She snorted, hopping the last step to avoid his returning shove.

“Admit it, you’re pretty sure we’re stuck in a simulation or mass hallucination too, right?” He teased, taking a few bigger steps to catch up to her.

“See you tomorrow, loser.” Mj replied, walking off in the direction of her apartment. She gave him a little wave before she turned the corner, then disappeared among the city traffic. Peter waved back before hopping into the backseat of a black SUV, the only car left parked by the sidewalk.


	2. Hoe (1) Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter returns to the Tower, unaware of the hell about to be unleashed (rip Beter Parkour 2k19)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title credit to my brother, who won't stop saying "hoes mad" and "bruh", and also will never know this account exists thank God  
> Sorry this is literally three days late work took more outta me than previously expected and I spent a more time watching a swedish man scream at a sheep and cry over a horse than i would like to admit.  
> I hope you enjoy! leave me some criticism or suggestions in the comments, I thrive off your feedback!

“Hey kid, what took you so long?”

“Hi Happy! You’re real, right?” Peter chirped in response to the driver.

“I, what, yes I’m real!” Happy turned to shoot a concerned glance at the lone occupant of the backseat, “You okay, Peter?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just had detention.” He replied, digging his English homework out of his bag. Happy nodded, as if that explained everything.

“Alright, just let me know next time. I had to sit out here for an hour.” The man grouched.

“Sorry, Happy, won’t happen again.” Peter assured. Happy grumbled a confirmation and with that, the privacy screen was rolled up. 

The drive to the Tower wasn’t incredibly long, but with the added traffic from their late departure, Peter was able to finish both his English and History homework with time to spare. As they pulled into the private garage, Peter pulled all the non-essentials, i.e homework, school stuff, etc., from his book bag, leaving just his suit, design folder, phone, and laptop. Those were the only things he needed for Lab work, and Happy would just take him back to school in the same car tomorrow, so what’s the point? He was too good at losing things anyways.

The second the car stopped, he hopped out of the backseat, and with an excited grin and significantly lighter book bag, he made his way into the private elevator and up to the Penthouse floor. He only stopped for a second, grabbing a bag of popcorn before bouncing back into the elevator and descending the few floors to the lab.

His first cue that something was off should’ve been the fact that the elevator opened to silence. Mister Stark was always playing some music or another, usually so loud you could hear it two floors away. His second cue was the fact that Captain America was standing there, arms crossed, waiting for him.  _ You have got to be kidding me, _ he thought.

He didn’t say anything, and neither did Steve, for an uncomfortably long time. Until the man cleared his throat and sat down in the chair before him, arms still crossed, and pointed at another chair in front of him and said ‘sit.’. Peter, deciding not to congratulate the obviously pissed super soldier on figuring out how to correctly use a chair, complied.

“So you got detention.” Steve said, obviously expecting some sort of reaction from the teen. All Peter could think was that his headache was coming back with a vengeance and that he was saying it all wrong, the enunciation was supposed to be on the ‘so’, not the ‘you’. He decided to just nod along.

“I’m not trying to steal Tony’s phrase or anything, but,” He continued, “from what your coach told me, you really screwed up.”  _ Oh gosh _ , Peter thought,  _ it’s almost word for word. _ Just that made his head pound, and he reached up to rub his temples with a scowl. This was apparently the wrong reaction, as the Captain frowned deeper.

“Where’s the detention sheet your Coach Wilson sent home with you?” He demanded, leaning back in the chair. Peter sighed and shrugged before answering.

“Probably in the car, I left all my school stuff down there, I wasn’t exactly expecting an interrogation.” The warning in Steve’s eyes did not go unnoticed, but at this point he was too tired and annoyed to care.

“FRIDAY?” The man said, looking up at the ceiling, “Could you ask Happy to retrieve that document and bring it up here?”

_ “Of course, Captain Spandex.” _

“Please stop calling me that.”

_ “I am afraid I am programmed to cycle through a few different names that boss has programmed me with, and to ignore any requests from you to stop, Star-Spangled Ass Master.” _

As hilarious as that was (Peter had even helped to come up with a few of the nicknames) it certainly didn’t help his case, the Captain seemed even more annoyed now.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Steve said, turning his steely gaze back on Peter, “I’m going to read that paper, then you are going to give your side, and then we’ll go from there.” Well, that seemed fair at least.

“Here’s what gets me; you should know what you said is wrong.” He went on, nodding his head sternly at the teenager, “you’re a good kid, Peter, and I expect you to try and do the right thing. But five detentions in a semester?” Peter thought about how insulting Flash allowed that freshman to scurry away, and about how he’d probably be sitting here for another forty five minutes. Honestly, things couldn’t get any worse for him anyway, so he let his head fall back and let out an exasperated groan.

“Am I boring you, Peter?” Peter could practically hear the steam coming out of the Captain’s ears.

“I’m sorry Mister Captain Rogers Sir, I just can’t do this again today.” He whined, hoping the man wouldn’t completely go off on him. Steve cocked his head like a confused puppy, very clearly caught between being mad and worried.

“Do what?” He asked, the anger and concern having combined into suspicion.

“Oh, you know, the whole,” Peter jumped out of his chair, spinning it around and swinging a leg over the side, sitting down with one arm draped over the back, “So, you got detention.” He had to hand it to himself, it was a pretty damn good Captain America impression. He had also never seen the power in a room switch so suddenly. The blood drained out of Steve’s face, as his entire body stiffened. 

“Wh-wha, how do you know about that?” Steve gasped, eyes blown wide.

“Mister Captain Rogers Sir, every single time I’ve had detention, or PE, or Sex Ed for the past three years I’ve had to stare at your face the whole time,” The blood rushed to the Captain’s face as quickly as it had left, “I can quote the whole thing.” Steve just sat there, gaping like a fish out of water, Peter almost felt bad for him.

“It was bad enough I had to sit in that horrible little room and watch it, and now I come home and have to do it again?” he grimaced, rubbing his face with his hands, “It was practically word for word and everything!” The Captain was desperately trying to pull himself together, though it didn’t really seem to be working at all.

“Wait, how’d you even find out about this? Coach called since it was my fifth, but I thought only Aunt May and Mister Stark were listed as contacts?” Peter asked, switching gears entirely. Steve coughed and drew himself up, the change of topic evidently a relief.

“Tony is away until this evening on business, but since calls from your school are considered priority, FRIDAY rerouted it to me,” Steve stated, schooling his face back into a frown,”And speaking of detention, care to explain why you have had five this semester alone, despite being gone for a whole month?” Peter sighed, setting the bag of popcorn down on the floor beside his chair.

“One was for forgetting my Spanish homework, one was for accidentally setting fire to part of the science lab, one was for skipping class that day we had a mission and no one called in to excuse me, one was for having too many tardies,” he counted off on his fingers, “and this one is for calling Flash Thompson a dickwad and telling him to do something about his rage boner other than pick on freshmen.”

At that, Steve brought his hand to his chin, seeming to be deep in thought.

“Is this the same Flash that was harassing you on that school trip?” He mumbled. “Uh, yeah, the one and only.”

“I thought Tony took care of that problem? And told you to tell him if he ever bothered you again?” Now it was Peter’s turn to shift nervously in his seat. Not his fault straddling a metal chair was possibly the most uncomfortable way to sit in a chair ever.

“Well, yes but that’s the thing. He hasn’t been bothering me,” Peter groused, waving a hand in the air, “ever since the trip, he’s left  _ me _ alone but I’ve noticed him picking on other students who can’t deal with it like I could.”

“So, you tell an adult about it. A teacher, or, hell, even one of us.” Steve replied, looking less and less angry by the second.

“Yeah, Mister Stark found out, and look what happened,” Peter huffed,”I knew this was gonna happen, too.” 

“What do you mean?” Steve furrowed his brow.

“I mean that I’m Spider-Man, I can take some douche’s shoves and jabs, a whole lot better than other people. I told Ned and Mj this would happen if any of you guys got a hold of this, but we still ended up here.” He shook his head “And now I have absolutely no idea what to do.” Steve nodded knowingly, and scooted his chair forwards to place a very large hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, son, we’ll figure it out.” He gave a reassuring grin “I’ll talk to Tony, and-”

“No, you definitely can’t do that!” Peter blurted, knocking the smile right off Steve’s face,”He already hates Flash, if he finds out about this, he’ll absolutely ruin his life!” He sighed, looking dejected at the floor, “As much as I dislike that guy, I can’t just take away his future like that.”

The Captain patted his shoulder, shaking his head to himself.  _ This kid is just too damn good. _ He took a deep breath, knowing that Tony would have his head on a platter if he found out about this.

“Alright, Peter. You’re doing the right thing, and I respect that,’ He paused, seeing the hope in Peter’s eyes as he lifted his head,” So here’s what we’re going to do. I won’t breathe a word of this to Tony, though May will be getting that report, so long as you never, and I mean never tell anyone about those PSAs.” the teen’s smile lit up, and he dove over the top of the chair to wrap Steve in an embrace. His arms didn’t go all the way around, but Peter didn’t seem to mind. Cap returned it, smiling as Peter thanked him profusely.

“Thank you so much Mister Captain Rogers! I swear I won’t let you down!” He chirped, breaking the hug and dashing to the elevator, only stopping to grab his popcorn and some random but probably important piece of tech from a nearby table. Steve smiled as he left, waving until the lab doors closed and he couldn’t see the teen anymore.

Pulling out his phone, Steve tapped out a number and dialed. It rang a few times before a bright red and blue figure swung past the lab windows and out of sight. Another couple rings, and a very out of it voice answered.

“Who is it?” Cap grinned to himself. He may have promised not to tell Tony, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take matters into his own hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epic Gamer Moment: when your parents say you aren't going to DragonCon unless you pay for it yourself so you get a job and start being responsible with money and your Dad buys your ticket anyway???  
> I mean, I'm super grateful, it's literally $125 I don't have to spend, but I gotta admit i'm a little disappointed I couldn't do it myself, I have more than enough saved up, and now it's just another thing they can hold over my head :/  
> Plus if I got it I could choose what nick-names go on the badge, and now I'll probably just have my real name and not Benedict/murdock-schmurdock  
> but that's really just me being picky uwu  
> anyways, hmu on instagram @murdock_schmurdock, I'm always available to chat or send bad memes back and forth with.


	3. That's Not Detective J.J. Bittenbinder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midtown High gets the surprise of a lifetime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a warning, this chapter is super short. I don't even know if it meets the 1,000 words threshold   
> sorry :/  
> I do like it though, and it concludes this story!

* * *

Three Days Later

* * *

Peter glanced around the crowd of students being herded into the Cafeteria. All of them looked confused, even a little scared, and he definitely picked on a couple wondering aloud if they were finally just going to kill them all. Finally he spotted Ned and Mj, already sitting near the middle of the room, saving a spot between them just big enough for him to squeeze in.

“Hey guys, what’s up with all this?” He asked, squirming to get comfortable on the metal lunch table bench. Mj shrugged, slipping her finger between the pages as she closed her novel.

“Beats me, man,” Ned grinned, clearly glad to be out of class, “Maybe we’re gonna learn about using our Street Smarts?” 

“I hope you brought your notepad, then.” Peter snorted.

“Silver money clip. Engraved, question mark?” Mj deadpanned, miming writing on the cover of her book. The trio chuckled to themselves until the feedback of a microphone screeched, drawing a groan from the crowd before it plunged into uneasy silence. Principal Morita walked on stage, looking a bit more excited than usual, and did the check, check one two into the microphone, to the mass annoyance of the crowd.

“Good morning, everyone,” a few similar greetings echoed back,”I know we did not plan for an assembly today, but our guest speaker insisted on doing this as soon as possible, and as you will soon see, we just had to indulge him.” this stirred the crowd a bit, guest speakers were usually a treat, especially if they were pathetic. Peter, on the other hand, was beginning to feel a little sick to his stomach.

Morita grinned, before gesturing dramatically to the side of the stage.

“Here today, to give us a fantastic talk about respecting your peers, is the man himself, Captain America!” The room burst into noise, very clearly torn between wild cheers and pained groans. It quieted very quickly, however, when Captain Rogers strode onto the stage, not in his typical cheesy get-up, but in full battle armor, complete with the iconic shield strapped to his back. He stood at the podium, standing at attention and surveying the room until it was dead silent.He took a breath, placed his hands on the lectern, and grinned warmly at the students.

“Not many people think about this, but I’ve dealt with bullies my whole life,” He began, his authoritative voice drawing in even the most bored of the students, “before Captain America, I was just some poor, shrimpy kid from Brooklyn, and a lot of people didn’t really like it when I mouthed off to them. That’s a nice way of putting it. The realistic way is that I frequently had more bruises and black eyes than dollars in my pocket.” He caught Peter’s eye and winked, very unsubtly.

The teen groaned and sunk down farther into the bench. Mj was reading, and Ned was absolutely enraptured with the super-soldier’s speech. This was going to be a long assembly.

Assembly only lasted about thirty minutes, but to Peter it felt like a lifetime. Luckily, Cap didn’t wink at him again, or explicitly call him out, but near the middle he got rather passionate, and kept staring somewhere to the right of Peter. Considering the ashen look on Flash’s face afterwards, Peter figured that’s where he had been sitting.

Waving his friends on, Peter hung around afterwards, as students milled about taking pictures and talking to the Captain. As soon as they had all left, he jogged up to Steve, tucking his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. 

“As much as I want to be mad about that, it was a pretty good speech.” Peter laughed, rolling his eyes as Steve exhaled in relief.

“You think? I completely forgot to write one after I set this up, so I was just winging it.”

“You can just, like, do that?” Peter asked, before shaking his head, “No, that’s not the point. I just wanted to give you a very begrudging thank you, and beg you to never do that again.” Steve smiled and pulled him into a side hug, mussing up the teen’s hair with one hand, to his annoyance.

“Anytime, son. I try not to be overbearing, but I gotta say the look on that Flash kid’s face when I glared at him was priceless.” Peter couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“From what I saw afterwards, his soul left his body sometime between that and when you talked about identifying bullying in your school.” He chuckled.

“Alright, as much as I’d love to stick around, I’m pretty sure you still have class to go to,” Steve smiled,”so I should probably head out. See you later?”

“Sure thing, Captain America.” Peter grinned, saluting the Captain before hopping off the stage. As he made his way to his next class, he saw Coach Wilson squinting oddly at him. He shrugged, and jogged away, just hoping Miss Carlson wouldn’t count him tardy again.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whooooo boy now ain't that something  
> thank you, unwitting human, for reading this far, it has truly been a pleasure.  
> I might have something to post tomorrow, we'll have to see!  
> I literally cannot write anything under 2,000 words i make everything so over-complicated it's a problem  
> Come scream at me on instagram! @murdock_schmurdock ! I just posted a mini comic featuring Peter and Mysterio! it's total crack!  
> <3<3

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on instagram @murdock_schmurdock if you want to talk n stuff!


End file.
